Amongst Hobbits
by CordeliaWho
Summary: Short one-shots about Diana's time living in Bag End with Bilbo. You might want to ready my Hobbit fanfic, The Next Adventure, before reading these...
1. A Cup of Coffee with a Dash of Awkward

**One-shots about Diana getting used to life in Hobbiton. **

**I wanted to put these stories as a whole chapter in The Next Adventure but they were too short, choppy, plotless, and awkward. So I thought it would be best to post them individually.**

**Hope you like 'em**

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><p>Diana sat in the sitting room beside the kitchen. Her legs were folded underneath her and she held a warm mug of coffee in her hands. It was morning still. She had only just finished telling Bilbo about how she didn't belong in Middle Earth. She felt that he took it hard but not as hard as she thought he would. He was being sweet actually. He was going to let her stay with him indefinitely and he seemed to swallow the bomb she threw on him. The Hobbit was sitting in a chair across from her in the living room. The large, round window beside them gave a perfect overlook of the little town.<p>

"So, you say another world." Bilbo began in a hushed voice as if other people could overhear in his empty home. "What is it like?" he asked. His face was blank but Diana noticed a glint of curiosity in his eyes.

"It's extremely different." she told him. "There are no Hobbits, or Elves, or Dwarves, or Wizards, for one thing."

"So everyone is just the race of Men?"

"Yeah, but we call ourselves 'humans'." She stretched her legs beneath the table and took a slow drink from her mug. "But we do have races. Just not like yours. We have Hispanic, white, Indian, black, Asian, native American. Plus a lot of subgroups of those races called ethnics. Like me, I'm from the Hispanic and white races. But my ethnicity is Mexican, German, Spanish, and Irish." Bilbo sucked in his cheeks and pursed his lips as he tried to follow her speech. Diana giggled. "Too much of a headache?"

Bilbo laughed and shook his head. "Too complicated."

"Yeah, it can be more trouble than its worth." she agreed with a small smile. "Our - um - inventions excel beyond yours, too."

Bilbo cocked his head to the side. "How so?"

"Well, for starters, we have stoves that light themselves, and cold boxes that keep our food fresher for longer."

"That sounds like heaven." he said, with widened eyes. "Is food different over there as well?"

Diana nodded. "Not very much, though, I don't think. We have the same foods that you do but I'm sure because of the different races and ethnicities in my world our dishes would vary more than yours. I could teach you some if you'd like." Bilbo nodded eagerly at her question and quickly set about getting her a quill and some paper so she could write everything down. Diana smiled to herself. The awkward tension was still evident between them, though she knew this would be normal given that they had just met and her unusual circumstances, but a simple mention of food to Bilbo and she knew the awkwardness would leave quickly.


	2. The Late Rosa Proudfoot

"All right, Diana," Bilbo said as he put on a plum-coloured jacket. "Are you ready?" He looked over at the young girl standing in his entry way as she smoothed down the shirt he had given her to wear.

It had been almost a week since Diana found herself in Middle Earth against her will and Bilbo had thought that it was high-time for her to experience everything Hobbiton had to offer. She had spent the past five days happily inside his home, learning how to cook and garden, and how to live in the times she was thrust into. It was not as easy as Diana would have hoped. More often than not she broke something. Bilbo still never really left her alone in the kitchen, and his prized vegetable garden was off limits.

Living in his home was interesting and fun, but going out to the market amongst other Hobbits that she did not know who might hate her or shun her was downright terrifying.

Diana bit her lip. "Are you sure about this, Bilbo?" she asked nervously.

"Sure I'm sure." the Hobbit answered confidently. "You'll be fine. And I want you to cook some more of your food. I can't carry everything back myself."

"But-but- what if someone asks questions or if the Hobbits don't like me?"

Bilbo shook his head and opened his front door. "We will cross that bridge when we get to it. Besides I'm sure the Hobbits will like you."

Diana pressed her lips into a line as she followed him out the door and down the stone path. "How do you know?"

"I like you." Bilbo answered her with a grin. "And I am quite respected around here. My word is trusted by most."

Diana crossed her arms over her chest. "But I'm not talking about you. I'm talking about the other Hobbits that are, most likely, less accepting."

"You'd be surprised." Bilbo paused in his walking and gave Diana a reassuring squeeze on her arms. She sighed in defeat, seeing as she was already out of the house, and nodded. The two resumed walking down the dirt path toward the marketplace.

The mid morning sun was warm as it shined over the valley. A cool breeze blew through the long grass, rustling the flowers in the little gardens of the hobbit-holes, and carrying the noise from the marketplace around the little hills. Few Hobbits were tending their yards that morning. Diana could feel their stares as her and Bilbo passed by the few homes on their way to the market. She kept her head down, not wanting to see the faces the Hobbits were directing towards her. After a quiet moment, she heard Bilbo greet someone with a cheerful "good morning". She lifted her head as she heard the creaking of a gate. Her shoulders slumped forward as someone came walking up to them.

An older man walked out of his home's small gate and caught up in step beside Bilbo. "Hello, Mr. Baggins, sir." The man lifted his straw hat in greeting, showing a full head of curly, sand-coloured hair. "How's your day been?"

Bilbo swayed his head slightly from side to side. "Bit too early to tell." he replied with a smile. "But it's been well, so far."

"Mine, as well. Mine, as well." the man agreed. "You off to the market, then?" Bilbo nodded. The man squinted his eyes as the light from the sun shined in his direction. He turned his head toward Diana and looked her over with a curious expression. "So...who is your companion this morning, Mr. Baggins, if you don't mind my asking."

Bilbo's eyebrows shot up. "Oh, yes. This is Diana Herrera. Diana, this is..."

"Hobson Gamgee, my dear." the man finished. He held out his hand.

Diana stared at him for a moment, her eyes wide. "Hello!" she said with large smile. She took his hand and shook it a bit too vigorously. "Hi. It's nice to meet you." Bilbo looked at her with a cocked eyebrow at her sudden change in attitude.

Hobson laughed at Diana's small excitement, giving her a friendly smile in return. His eyes flicked down to her boot-clad feet. "Not from around here, are you?" he asked with a pointed look between Bilbo and Diana.

"Quite right." Bilbo was quick to answer.

Diana gave an absent wave of her hand. "Yeah, I...traveled."

Hobson Gamgee nodded then furrowed his eyebrows. "Where did you travel from?" he asked.

Diana laughed nervously. She placed her hand over her chest where her necklace fell underneath her shirt. "...a bit of everywhere, ya know." She chuckled again.

"We don't get many non-Hobbits in the Shire." Hobson said slowly. His lips twitched down. "What brought you here?"

Diana's mouth opened and closed as she tried to think of an answer. She was growing nervous now that she was being asked these questions. She was seriously regretting leaving the house. Luckily, Bilbo was able to come up with a story where Diana could not. "She is a friend of my aunt Rosa's." he blurted out.

Hobson's face suddenly fell. He looked over at Diana. "I am so sorry, Miss." he said. He removed his hat and held it against his chest for a moment then placed it back on his head.

Diana scrunched her nose. "Sorry about what?" she asked the older Hobbit.

His face contorted in confusion. "For your loss..." he told her. "Rosa Proudfoot died three years ago."

Diana sucked in her cheeks and looked towards the ground. "Oh, yes." She lifted her head and looked over at Bilbo with an accusing gaze. He shrugged his shoulders in an apology. "Rosa...It came as a real shock. I wasn't aware until Mr. Baggins informed me after I had arrived." She took a deep breath and batted her eyelashes, hoping that Hobson bought what she was selling. "I came here to visit her, ya know." she told him sadly. She sniffed and pressed her lips together. "We were really close, me and her. I've known her since I was...well, its been a long time." She smiled sadly at the older Hobbit. He gave her an understanding nod. Diana sighed silently in relief.

"Well, we best be off." Bilbo said, breaking the awkward silence that had befallen them. Hobson nodded and gave the two a kind smile as they walked down to the marketplace.

"Thanks for saying I was a friend of your dead aunt's!" Diana harshly whispered in Bilbo's ear as she walked beside him.

Bilbo raised his shoulders to his ears. "Sorry, it just came out. You were not able to come up with anything to say so I just said the first thing to come to mind."

Diana sighed and raked a hand through her frizzy curls - the lack of conditioner in The Shire was really reeking havoc on her hair. "No, I'm sorry." she said, bumping her shoulder against Bilbo's. "It just caught me off guard. I had no idea what to say. He seemed to believe it, though."

"Luckily." Bilbo agreed.


	3. Out of the Frying Pan and into the Fire

"All right, Diana, are you ready to try this again today?" Bilbo asked, motioning to the stove.

Diana scrunched her nose. "I don't know. I've been failing miserably."

Bilbo took down his tinderbox from where he kept it on the shelf. "Well, all you need is practice. You'll get better. It took me some time to get the hang of it too. You just have to try."

"Do or do not, there is no try." Diana recited in a mumble. She huffed out an irritated breath as she mulled it over. "Okay..." she groaned after a short minute, sliding out of her chair and jumping to her feet. She pushed her sleeves up to her elbows and pulled her hair up into a large bun on the top of her head. "Lets do it." she smiled.

Bilbo laughed and handed her the tinderbox. "Do you remember what to do first?" he questioned.

Diana nodded. "Yes! You have to put in new kindling." Diana pulled the iron bars off the stove and placed it gently on the stone counter. She then grabbed a bundle of thinly chopped wood wrapped in twine and placed it in the shallow, blackened pit. Lastly, she placed a char-cloth on the wood and nestled it in between the pieces, before replacing the iron bars onto the stove. She grabbed the fire-striker and small piece of chert out of the intricately decorated box, and proceeded to swipe the rock in a choppy downward motion against the fire-striker.

Nothing happened.

Diana pursed her lips as she swiped the rock again. This time quickly. A few sparks flew downwards, quickly disappearing before falling into the stove. Diana beamed. "I did it!" she squealed.

"That was great!" Bilbo said, returning her smile. "Now do it again before you forget."

Diana nodded, returned her attention to the fire-starter, and scratched the chet against it in the same quick motion as before. This time the sparks were plentiful as they fell into the pit. Though, still, she was not able to set it aflame.

After a many more similar tries that ended in similar results, Diana slammed the small piece of metal and the rock onto the counter. She fought back the urge to groan in frustration, resulting in a low growl to sound through her throat. She tilted her head backwards and took in a deep breath. Closing her eyes for a moment, she tried to get herself to relax.

"We can try again later or tomorrow if you'd like, Diana." Bilbo said gently.

Diana shook her head. "No. A few more times. How can I give up now when I'm so close?" She brought her head upright and picked the tools back up. She set her lips into a line as she quickly brought the rock down against the hard metal. Bright sparks flew down in bunches as she repeated the process a few times. Suddenly, the char-cloth went up in flames.

"Oh my goodness." Diana said with a small grin as she watched the flames grow.

She brought her head level with the stove and blew on the barely there flames. They quickly spread to the wood and dry straw surrounding the char-cloth. Diana pulled her head back away from the heat and smiled at Bilbo, happy that she finally accomplished that.

"I can't belive I finally did it!" she laughed.

Bilbo smiled along with her. "Yes, you did great. And it only took you twenty minutes." the Hobbit quipped.

Diana glowered at him. "Don't ruin my moment, Baggins." She looked down at the fire she had started with a proud smile. Finally, after several attempts, she did it, and without catching anything else on fire. She was finally getting closer to being a pro at living in this place. She thought about how cool it would be to bring all she had learned in Hobbiton back to her world. She was so proud at the fact that she could start a fire on her own - with elbow grease instead of pressing down her thumb or dragging a stick against a box, this was actual work and made her that much more appreciative of having fire.

Diana's mind trickled out of its current thoughts, flicking her gaze between the steady fire and Bilbo. She bit her lip nervously. "Okay, so how do I put it out?"


	4. Not Old

It was an early morning on a Thursday. The sky was clear and the sun was shining brightly through the porthole-like windows in Bag End. The Hobbit who owned this household was sitting in the drawing room with his new guest. Though, "guest" may not have been the right word. After he had made the decision for her to stay with him permanently after hearing about her predicament the term "housemate" seemed better fitting. Hers was an outlandish story, yes - one he still had to wrap his mind around - but after a few days spent in her company he realised that this woman seemed a bit out of touch with this world (even the way she spoke gave a hint towards her not belonging here). So here he was, breaking his fast with a woman who had been living with him in his home for the past few days.

What would his father say?

They sat at the large table by the now open window. The cool morning air lazily blew inside and the warm rays of the sun that peeped in warmed their still tired faces. It was quiet, though not uncomfortable, as they finished what Diana had called "french toast". The woman had her feet propped up on the chair to her right, leaning back as she took a sip of her third cup of coffee. Bilbo sat in the chair across from her, still in his robe. He took the last piece of his second helping of french roast, swished it around in the syrup on his plate, and popped it into his mouth happily. It was a sweet taste he was happy to discover and content to eat for the rest of his life. He stuck the tip of his thumb in his mouth, licking off a bit of syrup, and pushed his plate away. He began helping himself to a cup of coffee as well.

Still, neither said a word. It wasn't needed. It astonished Bilbo how comfortable the silence felt between him and this woman he had only just met. She was already like an old friend.

Through the silence they could hear various voices from the Hobbits going about their day: tending their gardens, going to the market, and walking up and down the path in front of Bilbo's home. Suddenly, shrill laughter cut through the soft chatter of people and the melodious chirping of the birds as a group of children played near his open window. Bilbo sighed deeply in irritation, sinking into his seat. His grip tightened on the handle of his warm mug and he closed his eyes at the loud noise.

Diana watched his demeanor change from content to irritated, with a smirk hidden behind the rim of her mug. "What's the matter, Bilbo?" she asked. "You don't like kids?"

Bilbo peeped an eye open, looking at Diana's small grin. He opened his other eye and flexed his fingers on his mug. "No, it's not that. It's just..." He winced as loud, playful screaming hit his ears again. "it's a bit too early for that, don't you think?"

Diana bit her lip as she chuckled at his grimace. "I don't know..." she said with a shrug. "Maybe you're just old."

Bilbo's eyebrows furrowed and he gaped at her. "I'm not that old! I'm only fifty! That's still quite young." he defended. Diana laughed heartily, causing the Hobbit to laugh along with her. He placed his half empty mug on the table. "Speaking of 'old'." he began, looking in Diana's direction. "How old are you?"

"Twenty-three."

"You're still quite young. Though isn't age different with Men, or humans, as you say?"

Diana nodded in confirmation. "Yeah, just a little faster." She bit her lip as she did the math quickly in her head. "I'd be about thirty-five in Hobbit years." She finished off the remaining coffee in her mug and set the cup down on the table.

Bilbo hummed in his throat as he watched Diana pour herself another cup of coffee. "What cup is that?" Bilbo asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Hmm?"

"Your coffee. How many cups have you had?" he clarified. Diana shrugged as she stirred in the milk, taking a slow sip. "Fifth cup." Bilbo told her. He pursed his lips. "That is your fifth cup of coffee this morning."

"Is it?" Diana wondered. "I hadn't noticed." She shrugged once again and took another drink.


End file.
